Crossovers and One shots
by Pegazeus
Summary: This is where I will test waters and experiment. There will be little if any prior plot planning in relation to whatever goes here, so don't be surprised if something goes nowhere, or is poorly written/short. If something seems promising, I might make it into a full story on it's own, or continue it here signified by (Cont'd). Rated M for possible Mature content in some stories.
1. RWBY X Katawa Shoujo

**Hey there! This is just a place where I put my free written stories, meaning I will most likely be producing a series of (poorly made) one shot stories, all written without any prior planning and edited only for clarity and errors in convention. Enjoy!**

"Hmmm" pondered Ozpin. "A 6 Person team is usually not allowed, but, technically speaking, it makes no specification about 6, if you'll excuse me, 'incomplete' people, so I guess this is permitted, due to your _unique_ circumstances. "

Shizune rapidly signed something, which was then translated by her voice and other half, Misha.

"Thank you for permitting us to be taught here! Now, when do we get weapons?"

Ozpin was unsure as to who said what, so he took a sip of coffee to buy some time. He was confident he had puzzled it out, and addressed the drill-haired young lady. "You'll have to make them yourself, if you haven't already. Shall I let one of the schools craftsmen know you are coming?"

"I think we should let several know, so we don't burden one too much," answered Lilly, with Misha signing to Shizune in the background. "We've never really done this before."

"Well of course we haven't," interjected Rin, "How could you do anything here before when we only just got to this place? I don't know how we got here or where we even are, but I'm pretty sure that weirdo with glasses did something stupid with that guy whose problem was in his pants and-"

"That's enough, Ms. Tezuka," interrupted Ozpin, with Misha mid-sign. "I'll let several of them know that you need as much time and materials as possible, as well as inform them about your, ah, differences." MIsha hands danced again as all the girls nodded, and proceeded to walk out the door of his office. Ozpin sighed as they left, and sat back down behind his desk, wondering why he had let that happen, when a pair of twintails popped into the doorframe. "Yes?" he asked tiredly.

"Umm, where are the craftsmen?" Emi asked.

Ozpin didn't hear any fading footsteps, so he assumed they were all waiting just outside the door to hear his instructions.

"Follow me," He sighed.

* * *

Hanako was scared. There were so many new people here, people she didn't know, unfamiliar faces and unfamiliar places. She hugged Lilly's arm for support, even as Lilly trusted Hanako to follow the group to the Craftsmen. The girls passed by a few students in the halls, who stared at them. Hanako was wearing her school uniform, and couldn't hide her scars with her hat, so she buried the offending side into Lilly whenever someone got too close. She felt bare, without protection, wearing a different uniform than the students walking by, and scrutinising her. Hanako knew they were scrutinising her, and hugged Lilly even tighter.

"It's alright, you're fine," Lilly said, making Hanako jump. "I'm here, and Mr. Ozpin seems very trustworthy. I'm sure everything will be alright," hearing that made Hanako loosen her grip a little, and Lilly flexed her fingers as circulation returned to them.

"Can you tell me what this place is like? It sounds very large, but I can't tell much else." Hanako nodded to herself, and focused on describing what she saw, voice barely above a whisper.

"Th-there are tall w-windows on the l-left, and it's b-bright o-outside. Th-the carpet is d-dark red, and th-there are pillars b-between the w-windows."

"Sounds like a rather grand place, but a little full of itself, don't you think?"

"A-a little…" Hanako whispered again.

"Hello~o! Lilly and Hanachan~! Hurry u~up!" bellowed Misha from next to Ozpin, who seemed to be covering his left ear after being half-deafened.

"My, my, let's hurry up then," said Lilly, as she walked faster, Hanako almost being dragged along at first, but then she started to match her pace with Lilly's, and the rest of the group. Rin glanced at them, but had the same look where she could be either admiring the texture on the wall, wondering how to recreate it, or just thinking about toes. Hanako never really knew what she thought about, and was too afraid to ask.

They stopped after another five minutes of walking, in front of a large door at the end of a hallway. He turned and announced to the girls "Here is the workshop. It's empty now; save for the craftsmen, but usually there are always a few students in it. Don't be afraid to come after hours and maintain or alter your weapons, as they are almost as important as you are. Now then, if any of you need me," He sighed, "I'll be in my office."

"Alright!" exclaimed Misha, "Weapons for all, here we come!"


	2. RvB X MLA

"Why are here?"

"Because you fucked up, Grif. Now, we have deal with six different kinds of deadly alien that want to eat our faces, tear us to pieces, and stomp on us while some giant robots shoot them and get blown up. Fucking brilliant, Grif."

"You just described the best movie ever. Besides, that button was too big and too red _not_ be pushed. The only disappointment is the fact that you got sucked here too."

"Hey, we're all in mortal danger here, and any one of us could die at any time! We're stuck in the middle of a robot-alien apocalypse!"

"And it's fucking awesome."

"Can it ladies! I've got a plan!"

"Shit."

"We will move as fast as possible over that open terrain to that collapsed building on the other side of the street, where we will move to the roof and plant the American flag, making our foes flee in terror from sheer overexposure to _freedom!_"

"So, we'll go over there, to that other ruined building that looks exactly the same as this ruined building?"

"I think it's a brilliant plan sir."

"Shut up, Simmons."

"I can see it now… The aliens will be unable to stop killing themselves, overcome with the freedom to do so! And the robots will all explode in their attempt to understand how freedom kills them!"

"Groaaarrrrrr…"

"Uh, Yeah, I changed my mind, great plan. Let's go!"

"Ki o tsukete!"

"What the fuck was that?"

"Darn it! Those robots have learned of our plan, and are now trying to foil it!"

"Then why did it speak Japanese and kill the alien?"

"You understood that? Nerd."

"I didn't understand that!"

"Then how'd you know it was Japanese, _nerd?_"

"It's a very distinct language! I recognized it!"

"Alright ladies, our plan has changed, now we will-"

"You guys American?"

"What? Anyone get that?"

"The accent's too thick. I can't understand it!"

"Liiiisssstteeeennnn. MMMMOOOOVVVVEEE NNNNOOORRRTTTHHH. SSSSAAAAFFFEEEETTTYYY"

"We head North!"

"Brilliant, Sarge."

* * *

"This is a base? It looks like a High School."

"Aw yeah, where're all the schoolgirls at? Bow chicka bow wow"

"ATTENTION UNIDENTIFIED ARMORED SOLDIERS"

"Where are they? We should give them a message"

"That's us, Caboose"

"Oh."

"WAIT WHERE YOU ARE. YOU WILL BE ESCORTED TO YOUR NEW QUARTERS SHORTLY."

"Oh, I hope they're shiny! I'm going to get so much candy with them!"

"Why are we going to live in a high school?"

"I dunno"


	3. Chapter 3

The night was damp with the smell of rain.

The huntsman stopped beneath a tree and looked around, his dark brown armor dappled by moonlight. A sigh of wind brought movement to his attention, sharp eyes discerning a pattern not part of the swaying branches and whispering red leaves. He recognized Beowulf fur through the brush, full of twigs, mud and matted fur. Only Grimm ever had fur that dark, and a white mask to hide behind.

Rord held no fear of Grimm, as a huntsman. Satisfaction and anticipation brimmed in his chest, and he thumbed his scroll, alerting his sniping brother and quick, silent sister. As he raced through the forest, his teammates followed, swift at his back. They had spotted the signs as well. He saw through their eyes with his semblance, and spied himself running ahead. The fluttering leaves shivered as they ran by. The hunt was on now, their prey ahead.

Single wolves were easy targets. Swift, with a sharp nose and sharper ears, but near blind for the masks, and prone to stupidity. Ursae and Boarbatusks were fiercer in single fights, but Beowulves in packs were dangerous. As they closed in, he heard them notice, and run away, twigs breaking fast and fur slipping away into the dark. _They fear me_, he thought,_ as they should_.

The trees had mossy fangs snarling down from the red leaved branches. Rord tore ahead through the undergrowth, spraying water. His teammates followed, until the wood gave way to a clearing, and the Beowulf was there. It stood on a rock in the middle of the clearing, staring right at them. There were two others, females by their masks, one on each side, as well as a juvenile in front. It growled and barked at them, but RFLE was not that easily scared.

Then the team was upon the Beowulves.

Longshot rapidly took aim and shot the one on the rock. His sister quietly snuck beside the males falling body and silently sliced open the wolf on the left. That left the juvenile and the last female for Rord. His axes easily cleaved through the juvenile's weaker mask, and he swiftly followed through and gutted the female as it leaped at him. She stopped struggling soon after, and Rord wiped the blood off of his axes on the beast's fur.

"Well, that was easier than I anticipated," said Longshot, "But did you have to take a look? You know how we feel about it, right?"

"What, and miss a chance to see Faye looking at my ass?" said Rord.

"Hardly," She replied icily. "Larry had almost lost you, and I was helping him out."

"I thought we settled on calling me 'Longshot' in public?" interjected the man holding the rifle. "And I didn't lose him; it's just hard to see with only one eye. I'm not used to it yet."

Rord laughed, and motioned Larry to take out the backpack. "You're crazy. If you're not at a hundred percent, then those Grimm really must have been weak."

"Oh, ha ha Mr. Axe-crazy. It's actually easier to aim, and a good thing that Ursa only got my left eye," said Larry, as he reached and grabbed three cups from the bag he had been carrying. When all the cups were out, Larry reached into the bag again, grabbed a canteen and filled each with a measure of amber liquid.

They all raised their glasses, saying "For Edward," in unison, and drained their cups.

Faye's eyes watered, Larry coughed, and Rord wanted another. The burning sensation in his throat became warmth in his chest, staving off the cold that came from the chilling rain that was starting to fall. This was a ceremony they had always performed, as instructed by their late leader. It was his old favorite drink, and though Rord preferred beer, this was still drinkable. _Thanks for the drinks, Ed_, he mused, as he thought about pouring himself another half measure_. You always had the finer tastes. I just wish it didn't make living on the streets a possibility for a huntsman_.

Edward Stone had been a fine team leader, at least according to Rord. Given the fact that they had never worked together before graduation from Beacon, it seemed incredible that Ed had been able to make a seemingly mismatched group of hunters into such an effective unit. They weren't legendary, by any means, but each one of them could take a Deathstalker singlehanded, if properly prepared. Like a rifle barrel to the bullet, cartridge, and powder, Ed had guided them towards kill counts they wouldn't have seen otherwise.

But that was before his death a year ago. He took an airship to Vacuo on leave, as he had some family there he wanted to see. Judging by the wreckage, the airship was attacked by several Nevermores along the way. _I guess Stones were never meant to fly._

"I can't believe you're drinking more of that," Larry said as he took his sister's cup and began to put it away, along with his own. "I thought you said it was too expensive for 'a huntsman's salary.'"

Rord opened his mouth to reply, when the back of his neck tingled. He whirled around, axes drawn, aura flaring to life. He heard Longshot and Faye ready up, the patter of rain starting behind them. Rord waited for something, anything, muscles tensed and ready to react at an instants notice. Then he heard a soft, pitiful noise beyond the sound of raindrops. It seemed to be a mewling of some sort.

"Any idea what that is?" he asked his compatriots. Neither answered, but Faye guardedly walked toward the female Beowulf Rord had killed. She turned the eviscerated thing over with her foot and jumped back, pale, as the mewling grew louder. She called back to them.

"Unborn pups. Several of them, though only one is still…" She shook her head. "She must have been pregnant when you got her, Rord." Faye had gotten paler, Larry looked like he was going to be sick, and Rord was uncomfortable listening to the poor thing. He knew he shouldn't feel guilt about killing a Beowulf, but this still disturbed him. He walked Past Faye, over to the body of the dead mother, axe drawn. A wet thunk sounded as he cut the pup's cries short. There were three others, already dead as Faye had said; killed by the shock of their mother's death, except that one. He was feeling relieved, but he was wondering what Ed would have said to the team. He didn't get to finish his thought, as Larry interrupted it.

"Why're we here?" he mused loudly, causing Faye and Rord to look at him. "I mean, we're three, highly skilled Hunters. Three Beowulves? That's overkill."

"Don't forget the young one," interjected Rord.

"Fine, three and a half. I know we're supposed to be on patrol, but seriously, students should be doing this kind of grunt work. Our skills are wasted here."

Rord hesitated before replying, "Look, I know it seems like a misallocation of resources."

"Ooh, big words," sniggered Larry, who was then silenced by a murderous glare from Faye.

"I know something seems off," continued Rord, "but we're getting paid for easy work, and easy work is a good sign. It means we're doing our job, and Grimm numbers are going down." It was true. Fewer and fewer supply convoys had even been attacked on the way to Vacuo over the past year. Huntsmen and Huntresses seemed to be in less and less demand, which made the three of them on a simple patrol, whilst a waste of time and effort, a living sign of the times: Hunters now have trouble getting steady work. Luckily, these three were paid by salary, though they received no bonus from commissions. That went straight to The Order.

"We should get moving," said Faye, her arms crossed, shoulders back, looking disinterested. Rord knew full well she was always looking for more potential Grimm, though.

"Alright," said Rord, turning to face the rock, "We head-" the hairs on his neck stood up again, and he whirled around once more.

Longshot had his rifle up, and Faye had already disappeared. There was nothing in sight, but he didn't let his guard drop. The backpack lay forgotten on the ground, its owner still looking for the source of the alert. He whispered to Longshot, "See anything?"

He was still scanning the trees with his rifle, which Rord understood as 'no,' and turned back to the edge of the clearing. He activated his semblance, and tried to see through Faye's eyes. It wasn't painful, but it was uncomfortable for her. He noticed her squinting, and then he saw rain, trees, and red leaves. She seemed to be looking past all that. Faye moved a branch out of the way, her arm invisible thanks to her semblance, and looked toward the forest floor. There didn't seem to be anything there, just piles of dead leaves and mud. False alarm? She moved again, so quickly Rord felt uneasy, and barely noticed that she was moving closer to the pile of leaves. It seemed to be much larger than a mass of crimson leaves had any right to be in the middle of a forest. She walked up to it, utterly sure of its unimportance, but still cloaked in her semblance. _Never hurt to be too careful_. A twig snapped to her left, and she glanced quickly at it, still trying to keep the suspicious foliage in the corner of her eye. Always the professional.

Then the leaves moved. Fast.

Rord was jolted back into his own sight, unexpectedly, and took a step back. That had never happened before. _Crimson? Did I see blood?_ He shook his head, and banished concerns for Faye from his mind. As the rain pattered down, the blood red leaves were rustling, a few falling as the wind picked up briefly. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to anticipate anything that might come from the trees ahead. The stench of Beowulf blood was being washed away. He felt the smoothness of the leather on the worn grips of his axes and the hard metal underneath as he slowly brought them together, forming a two headed war axe. Somewhere in the darkness, a branch shattered.

Faye was thrown lifelessly toward them, throat slashed, streaming blood. She landed gracelessly, tumbling like a broken doll. A Beowulf, red as the leaves on the trees around them, slowly stalked toward the stunned pair, its black mask glistening in the rain.

This Beowulf was far larger than any Rord had ever seen. It was as large as an Ursa Major, yet still lean, and moved with a lithe grace he had never seen before. And it was red. Blood red.

"NOOOOOO!" bellowed Longshot, regaining his senses and quickly pulling his trigger, eye glowing with semblance. A flash lit up the clearing, and in its absence, the Beowulf was gone, but Faye was still limp on the ground. "Dammit! I never miss! What the… hell?"

Rord turned to see the Crimson Beowulf withdraw its claw from deep within Longshot's side, his face already pale save for the blood pouring from his mouth, rifle dropping to the ground with a wet clatter. Then the Beowulf turned its dark mask to face Rord, and it began to rush towards the axe wielder.

Rord sprinted forward to meet it head on, and slashed at the oncoming creature, hoping to cave it's skull in. It was only after his axe had sunk into the mud did he notice the wilted rose petal he had sliced in half drifting toward the ground. _Missed?_

Something hit Rord's back like a freight train, and he was sent sailing through the air to the sound of metal screeching off dark claws. He landed roughly, but rolled to his feet, axe at the ready. The Beowulf was nowhere to be seen, but he knew it would be back. He eyed his teammates quickly. Faye's head was almost completely torn off, no chance for her. Larry had half his ribcage caved in, his viscera spread on the ground next to him, steaming in the rain. A howl sent shivers down Rord's spine.

He turned around, and faced the creature that had killed his friends. It stared back, not moving a muscle in the rain. Rord's jaw clenched, his grip on the axe tightened as he separated it into two single-bladed axes again. He needed as many blades as possible between him and this beast. There he stood, water steaming off his exposed skin from the aura he generated, staring the Crimson Beowulf down. Both were immobile save for their heavy breathing. He began to evaluate his foe: It's strong, but it has no pack; no backup. It may be fast, but I doubt it can take a serious hit. I just need to hit it before it hits me. If it does, I have to make sure it's my chestpiece; anywhere else, it'll break a limb or kill me.

Rord waited for it to move, not petrified, but patient. He couldn't rush it. One wrong decision and he was dead. He had never felt more alive, despite being surrounded by death. He smirked at the irony. His every muscle was tensed, ready, his focus was laser-sharp, and he felt no rush, no compulsion to spring forward. He waited for his and his foes, fate. Rord didn't know how long he stood there.

The Beowulf suddenly sniffed. Loudly. Rord was surprised, and it almost killed him right there. He got his two axes up just in time to stop the claw rushing for his face. He slashed with his right axe while still holding the claws with his left, but by then, the Beowulf had moved, leaving wilted petals behind. Rord whirled around and deflected a glancing blow aimed for his head, right arm snapping under the unexpected force. As even more adrenaline pumped into his system, he lashed out with left arm, and his axe rebounded awkwardly off the dark, bony material that made up the creatures skull. His wrist shattered under the change in direction, and he dropped the axe, its partner following soon after. The Crimson Beowulf quickly snapped its jaws around his left leg and shook. Violently. Rord was separated from his leg, and sent flailing through the air, to land in a bloodied heap in the mud, next to the dead Beowulf pups. He felt no pain, only an unbearable cold, and an incredible pressure that would not stop growing. The Beowulf turned to stalk out of the clearing

"M-...mer...cy," he breathed. The Crimson Beowulf stopped at the noise. It turned, and padded back to him. Staring at him, framed by the moon, it lowered its jaws around his head, its breath hot and wet on his face as the world imploded into nothing.


	4. Jan 2015 rrwby Moncon

Jaune sat at the bow of the yacht, leaning on the railing, and gazing into the moonlit waters near the horizon. Every few seconds, he caught sight of something disturbing the water. He did not need to see it to know what it was. Honestly, it surprised him he had lasted this long. He waited a few more moments, before turning around and walking back to the main part of the boat, the rear deck. He picked up his sword from where it lay, strapped on his armor, and readied his shield. He double checked all the straps, and made sure the plating covered as much of his body as possible. The improvements he had made in the past year were quite extensive, though he had taken weeks of self-convincing before he finally decided to modify his grandfather's armor.

He was alone on this voyage, as he knew he must be. He had to protect those he cared for. Pyrrha... He furrowed his brow as he thought of the fierce huntress. He didn't have much time to think before he heard the telltale slosh and clink of someone heaving themselves over the side of the yacht. He drew his sword; the metal sliding from its sheathe with a stealthy wooden sound. He breathed, readying himself for the ferocious conflict to come.

His opponent was not long in waiting. He gazed at the starboard side of the ship, where he had heard the sloshing sound earlier. Whu-thunk. His left ear tingled as a red and gold spear dug itself into the board behind him. He wasn't lucky. She was just being dramatic. It slowly eased itself frim the deck, and began to float back to the port side. He furrowed his brow at this turn of events. Of course she wouldn't make a beeline to him.

He saw the metal band in her hair appear first, though Jaune's eyes widened as it revealed itself to be a full face helmet, with a bright red crest. Her shield was large enough to cover her from shoulders to knees, and her spear had returned to her hand. Jaune couldn't see her eyes, but the constant stare told him all he needed to know.

"Just like old times." He whispered as he readied himself, and began walking forward. She stepped into full view of the light Jaune had focused onto the rear deck. They circled, spear and sword and shields, waiting for a sign of anything out of the ordinary. The world was holding its breath. Not even the waves made a sound, not that the two warriors would know. They were both stalking their prey in plain sight. Waiting. Watching. Predicting and anticipating.

Silent.

Jaune moved first, a swing intended to knock her helmet askew. She casually raised her shield and thrust with her spear. Jaune sidestepped, not even leting it touch his shield. Then, they were circling again. After a few moments, she took several rapid steps, her shield in front, intending to run him overboard. He braced, and slammed his shield into hers as he twisted, and let her momentum carry her past, slashing at her back as he turned. She didn't even look as the rear of her spear blew the blow askew. Jaune recovered before she turned. They began stepping silently once more.

Time after time, they clashed. Neither losing ground, and both stopping after a short exchange. Jaune licked his lips, as if to say something more, but an abrupt slash with a spear cut him short. After their short exchange was over, he said aloud, "I think this is a stalemate, Pyrrha." The spartan remained silent behind her implacable mask, and it merely stared eyelessly back at him. "Though I have to admit, the helmet does throw me." Again, silence was his answer. After a few more short bouts, he was beginning to sweat. He wanted to wipe it from his brow, but her spear was always ready to respond to such a move. He tried speaking again. "I know want to kill me, but will I at least be able to explain myself?" Nothing changed from the implacable wall of bronze. "I am not a traitor." He said resolutely.

"I don't believe that, Jaune," she finally spoke, her voice rendered harsh and metallic by the helmet.

"Well, I do," he said, pairing the last word with a swing of his shield, his intent to knock hers away. Whilst she was almost unprepared, she still managed to leap out of the way of his follow through. There was a much larger space between them now, and Jaune saw the wind beginning to rustle the crest of her helmet. He heard the waves beginning to lap at the keel of the boat. The light from the moon had faded, clouds hiding it's shattered form from view. The only light now was the spotlight Jaune had positioned for this occasion.

"I was protecting people," He exclaimed, sword thundering forward now. "I can't be a traitor! I was saving them!"

"You protected no one but Cinder!" she replied, with a block and a slash.

"She never needed to be saved!" a sidestep and a stab was his riposte.

"Because she put people in danger!" a deflection, and shield swipe. "We saved people from her!"

"You don't understand me!" He replied, stepping forward, guard down, chest exposed. The shield and his breastplate collided, staggering him, but breaking the shield. "I was saving you!"

Pyrrha stopped. She had her spear under his chin, past his aura, cold metal touching his flesh. Jaune looked back at the metal that hid her face from the world. After moments that stretched into millennia, Pyrrha Spoke again, her voice distorted by more than the metal "How could you have saved me?" The helmet remained emotionless. The crest was beginning to flutter more now.

"I made her leave you... for last." He said, as tears began to peek at the edges of his eyes. "So long as you lived, so could I." He didn't hear a response, but he saw drops of water coming from underneath the cold metal. "You still stopped her, didn't you?" The spear was still at his throat. He dropped his sword to the ground with a loud thud.

"Yes. We stopped her." Pyrrha lowered her spear from his throat. Jaune breathed deep again. Rain was starting to patter the wooden deck. His tears were being lost as the drops struck his face. His chestpiece was cracked, but still in one piece. The same could not be said for Pyrrha's shield. It lay scattered about in pieces. After glancing at her broken pieces, Jaune looked at Pyrrha who was taking off her Helmet. Her hair was done in a bun, so it did not fall past her shoulders. Jaune breathed in sharply when he say what Pyrrha had been hiding.

Her right face was horribly burnt. Like melted plastic, her mouth could barely close, and her eye could barely open. The burn was old and dark, not fresh and pink. Jaune could not breathe. "You didn't save me," she said, "Not all of me."

Jaune had her in his arms in a moment, where she wept quietly onto his broken breastplate. His chest felt like it was being ripped in two. "I should have stopped her."

"But you didn't Jaune. You let her do worse to other people."

"I had to save you."

"No, you should have saved those people!" she was feebly hitting him with her left hand. "They were more important than me."

"How... how can you say that," he said quietly, as he looked into her green eyes.

"Because I am a Huntress. I protect people. Not a person. People."

Jaune could only hold her tighter. Her feeble strikes had weathered away the rest of his breastplates integrity, and it crumbled, turning to Dust as it hit the ground. He sobbed immensely, shaking; with every heave leaning on Pyrrha more and more, until she was the one holding him as the rain fell and the waves began to crash.


End file.
